“What?”

He waved a hand. “One of those Twitter facts. Who told you stars were dead? Tell me it wasn’t someone who actually calls themselves an educator.”

“We don’t do astronomy in school,” I said.

He snorted. “Of course you don’t. It’s too important. Honestly, the American school systems . . .”

Simone rolled her eyes. Leo had a handful of rants, from the American School System to People Who Let Their Dogs Off Their Leash to Why Would Anyone Watch Football When Cricket Is So Much More Dignified.

“You are seeing light how it used to be,” he said. “And stars do die. But their life spans are long—a million years or so, oftentimes. It only takes light a few years to get from here to there—and that’s for stars that are far away. Most of the ones you’re seeing right now are still in the sky, happily burning.”

I looked back through the telescope, taking in the still-shining stars. When I pulled away, Leo was standing with his arms crossed, just staring up at the sky.

“After all these years, this is still my favorite way to look at them,” he said. “With my own two eyes.”

I tipped my head back. It was mine, too.

“They feel so close in the telescope. It’s freaky,” said Simone. “It’s like if we yell loud enough, the aliens living on them can hear us.”

“There couldn’t be aliens on stars,” I said. “They’re burning balls of gas.”

Leo smiled at me. “Don’t mind her. She studies Shakespeare.”

“You do? I thought you were, like, a teaching assistant,” I said, surprised.

“Please. I’m his personal assistant; I schedule his speaking gigs and stuff. Answer his emails. All of this science talk? Nah. Shakespeare, now, that’s worth your time,” said Simone. “By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes. The man had a way with words. Astronomy . . . it’s math. It’s dull.”

“Dull,” said Leo, chortling. I read that word in a book once—chortling—and wasn’t sure what it meant. But when I heard the sound Leo made, there was no other word to describe it. That was a chortle. “Dull! As if the entirety of the universe was dull. As if human existence could possibly be dull. The study of our galaxy is the most passionate study there is.”

I didn’t know who to agree with. I liked the stars because they were dependable and set in stone. But now, maybe, they weren’t.

“One day,” Simone said to Leo, “I’m going to quit working for you, and you’re not even going to be able to find your shoes—”

“That’s true,” he admitted. “I wouldn’t last an afternoon.”

“And I’m going to teach,” she told me. “Macbeth, King Lear . . .”

“Maybe I’ll take one of your classes,” I said with a grin.

“No,” said Leo, grabbing his heart jokingly. “Don’t join the dark side!”

I laughed. “I’m sorry, was that a very lame attempt at a Star Wars quote?”